


1027

by GEGabriels



Series: G.E.Gabriels' Les Mis Sickfics [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Best Friends, Collaboration, Courfeyrac being Courfeyrac, Enjolras and Courfeyrac are useless with sick people, Fever, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26094010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GEGabriels/pseuds/GEGabriels
Summary: “Ferre… Are you quite alright?” Enjolras asked, concern gracing his features. Combeferre opened his mouth to say more, but only succeeded in coughing again. Courfeyrac’s eyes widened,“Are you… Sick?!” He exclaimed, surprised.When Combeferre is sick, for once, Courfeyrac and Enjolras are clueless over what to do.
Relationships: Combeferre & Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables)
Series: G.E.Gabriels' Les Mis Sickfics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896514
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1027

“And then he said…” Courfeyrac tried to do his best to listen to his blonde friend, but he honestly didn’t care about whatever some random dude had said about politics. 

“Mm, Enjy, why don’t you talk about romance or something, like a normal person.” Courfeyrac suggested, Enjolras giving him a horrified look.

“I will do nothing of the sort!” He exclaimed. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. The two boys walked down the hallways of their apartment. They both lived together with Combeferre, off campus, because thankfully all three of them could afford it. 

“Enj, you have the key, right?” Courfeyrac questioned, “We are not getting locked out again.” Enjolras nodded,

“ _Mhm_ ,” He mumbled, pulling the key to the apartment out of his pocket. Courfeyrac shook his head,

“You know Combeferre doesn’t like it when you keep it in your pocket, it could fall out.” Courfeyrac chided.

“Fuck that.” Enjolras growled. 

“Somebody’s in a good mood,” Courfeyrac joked, as Enjolras stuck the key into the doorknob. Enjolras opened the door, revealing a dark, empty apartment. He and Courfeyrac walked in, Courfeyrac turning on the lights. Courfeyrac flopped down on the couch with a relieved sigh, turning the TV onto some sort of Frozen thing. Enjolras grabbed the remote, turning it to La Marseillaise. Courfeyrac groaned. 

“We listen to this at least 19 times everyday, don’t you think it’s time to branch out some?” Courfeyrac suggested. 

“No.” Enjolras replied, laying his backpack against the couch, and taking out some sort of thick history book that no mortal being should possess. Then again, the jury was still out on whether Enjolras was mortal or not… Grantaire as one of the most avid opposers. Enjolras began defiantly humming to the tune, and Courfeyrac held his hands up,

“That’s it, I give up with you!” He exclaimed, Enjolras giving him a wicked smirk.

“ _Mm_ , my goal is achieved.” Enjolras responded. Courfeyrac lightly smacked his arm,

“Combeferre is right, you, my friend, are impossible and incorrigible.” Courfeyrac said, rolling his eyes.

“Am not,” Enjolras stubbornly replied, sounding everything like a petulant child.

“Hah, the brave leader, Apollo, pouting like a 3-year-old.” Courfeyrac joked. 

“Stop calling me Apollo, Grantaire is bad enough with that!” Enjolras protested. There was a small shuffling sound from the other side of the room, and Enjolras and Courfeyrac locked eyes, confused. Ever since Courfeyrac’s ferret, Rebel, had died, the house had been free from random sounds, other then when Enjolras threw a book on the floor in frustration, and they all knew what that sounded like well enough to discern it from other sounds.

“ _Oh_ ,” Said a voice, and they turned there heads to see Combeferre standing in the front door, having just opened it. 

“You’re home early, the teacher let you out or something?” Courfeyrac asked, flopping dramatically over a confused Enjolras’ lap. Combeferre adjusted his glasses,

“I was sent home,” Combeferre started, opening his mouth to say something more, but coughing into his fist instead.

“Ferre… Are you quite alright?” Enjolras asked, concern gracing his features. Combeferre opened his mouth to say more, but only succeeded in coughing again. Courfeyrac’s eyes widened,

“Are you… _Sick_?!” He exclaimed, surprised. Combeferre paused for a second, before closing his eyes and giving a nod, sitting down heavily on the sofa. Courfeyrac and Enjolras both sat in shocked silence for a second, before Enjolras, not one to go speechless for long, spoke up,

“So… What do we do?” He murmured, Combeferre frowning,

“Stay away from me, I don’t want any of you falling ill,” Combeferre responded. Enjolras gave Combeferre a look, sitting down on the couch,

“Yeah, no.” He replied, Courfeyrac nodding in agreement. Combeferre let out a long sigh, placing two fingers on his temples, and scrunching his eyes.

“You always take care of us when we’re poorly, Ferre,” Courfeyrac pointed out, Enjolras nodding. 

“Mhm, and I have a better immune system then both of you.” Combeferre muttered. Courfeyrac smirked at him, pointing directly at Combeferre, who had curled in on himself miserably. Combeferre groaned,

“I can’t deal with this right now,” He muttered, burying his face in the couch. Enjolras reached a tentative hand forward, gently brushing the back of his hand against Combeferre’s forehead.

“He’s warm,” Enjolras reported to Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac nodded,

“I’m gonna call Joly.” He said, picking up his cellphone. He unlocked it, scrolling through his contacts to Joly, and pressing call. 

_“Uh, hello?”_

“So… Quick background story. Combeferre’s sick, we have absolutely no medical experience, and are totally lost!” Courfeyrac exclaimed. There was a silence on the other end of the line.

_“Combeferre can do that?”_

“Apparently!” Courfeyrac replied.

_“Alright, symptoms?”_ Joly asked in a steady voice. Courfeyrac shrugged,

“Uh, Combeferre, symptoms?” Courfeyrac inquired. Combeferre blinked,

“What?” Combeferre murmured. Courfeyrac pointed at Joly’s name on the phone. Combeferre sighed,

“Persistent cough, congestion, headache, nausea, possible fever.” Combeferre reported in a monotone voice.

“ _... Okay, get him to take his temperature._ ” Joly ordered. Courfeyrac nodded.

“Enj, can you get the thermometer?” Courfeyrac asked. Enjolras frowned,

“I don’t know where it is.” He admitted. Courfeyrac narrowed his eyes,

“How would you of all people not know where it is?!” He exclaimed.

“In the medicine cabinet in the bathroom,” Combeferre directly tiredly. Enjolras walked out of the room, returning with the thermometer. He scowled at it, like it had done some wrong deed against him, and handed it to Combeferre. Combeferre closed his eyes, most likely exasperated at his friends utter incompetence, slipping the thermometer into his own mouth. A few minutes later, he took it out, Courfeyrac reading it.

“1027!” He exclaimed.

“ _WHAT?!_ ” Joly yelled, Courfeyrac squinting at the thermometer,

“Oh, wait, there’s a decimal point. 102.7.”

“ _Thank goodness. 102.7… If he starts vomiting, call me back, and take him to the doctor to test for Influenza. Otherwise, keep him warm, hydrated, his temperature down, and do NOT give him a hard time._ ” Joly ordered. Courfeyrac shrugged,

“We’ll do our best!” He responded. Enjolras took the phone, hanging up on Joly. The three friends were silent for a second, before Enjolras finally spoke up,

“So… What are we supposed to do?” He asked. Combeferre stood up,

“M’going to bed,” He murmured, making his way out of the room. More silence.

“I think we’re supposed to do something.” Courfeyrac said. Enjolras gave him a helpless look,

“I don’t know what to do with a sick person!” He exclaimed. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes,

“You’ve been a sick person so much, you must have picked up something. What did Combeferre do for you last time you were sick?” Courfeyrac asked. Enjolras thought,

“He tied me to the bed.” Courfeyrac paused,

“Yeah… Lets not do that.” Enjolras forehead creased in thought,

“Doesn’t he need… Medicine or something?” He inquired. Courfeyrac frowned,

“We’re not going to accidentally poison him.” They were interrupted by a loud fit of coughing from the bedroom, and Enjolras and Courfeyrac headed into it.

“Hey,” Enjolras said, sitting at the foot of Combeferre’s bed. Combeferre blinked at him, Courfeyrac sitting next to him.

“Hey,” Combeferre murmured, coughing roughly into his hand. 

“How’re you doing?” Courfeyrac asked, Combeferre giving him a pointed look. 

“So, not good?” Courfeyrac guessed, Combeferre giving a small nod, a shiver racking his body. 

“I’m really cold right now,” Combeferre admitted, Courfeyrac shifting closer to him, and wrapping his arms around him, Enjolras doing the same. Combeferre opened his mouth to protest, but Enjolras shushed him.

“Let us take care of you for once, Ferre.” And so, the three friends curled up together on the bed, relishing the simple feeling of the other two by their sides. 

………………………

Three days later, Combeferre entirely recovered, and he walked out of his room with a yawn, greeting his two best friends.

“Good morning,” Combeferre said, Courfeyrac opening his mouth to speak, but coughing into his arm instead, Enjolras letting out a loud sneeze. Combeferre sighed, placing the back of his hands on both of their foreheads,

“This is entirely your faults.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This probably isn't top quality, XD, since it was a collab between my brother and I. 
> 
> He looked at me and asked, "What would happen if Combeferre got sick?" And I replied with, " Nothing good, let's do it. " Tada.
> 
> Please review!


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